


Duck!

by lrose20



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Humor, I Don't Even Know, crackish, douglas was a chef, still living ducks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrose20/pseuds/lrose20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas recalls a moment of his very interesting multi-talented past to Martin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duck!

"I was a chef once," Douglas said casually, leaning back in his seat, one hand resting on the flight controls. 

"Really?" Martin asked incredulously. He knew of course that Douglas was an excellent cook, but still. The idea of him wearing a large white hat and an apron seemed a bit odd. 

"Oh, yes. After my career as a medical student, I went to Paris. Started out as a garbage boy and within a month I was a chef. They were quite impressed with my creme brule."

"So, what happened?" 

"Hm?" Douglas asked distractedly, looking back from the window where his gaze had been focused. 

"Well you're obviously not a chef anymore," Martin said, feeling like an idiot for having to point out the obvious. "Something must have made you quit."

"Indeed, Captain Du Creff," Douglas nodded with a smirk, making Martin roll his eyes. "My quitting had little to do with a desire to quit...and much more to do with a duck."

"A duck," Martin repeated blankly. "Oh forget it, if you don't want to tell me, just say so."

"Martin, I'm being serious. I was...let go of over an incident with a duck."

"What, did you and the duck not get along?" 

"You might say that...You see, every Saturday I prepared the house special: duck sauted with butter and herbs. Usually I had plenty of time, and it was always the highest praised dish. However, on that Saturday, one of the other chefs had gotten the flu, and I was supposed to manage both his position and mine. A difficult feat, but no one could have handled it better than I," Martin snorted and shook his head, but Douglas either didn't hear him or simply chose to ignore him.   
"Now, all would have been well...if I had remembered to break the duck's neck."

"...it wasn't."

"You guess correctly mon Capitain. The duck was still kicking, as the expression goes. And whilst I was checking on the other chef's soup, the duck decided to do more than just kick. He decided to lead me on a merry chase through the kitchen, out into the restaurant, and onto the table of a wealthy patron."

"Oh, God," Martin said, picturing the entire scene in his head. 

"Indeed. Needless to say the owner had no qualms about kicking me out."

"Mm, I bet," Martin mused. A knock on the door and then Arthur bounced in, carrying the dinner trays. 

"Dinner, chaps." 

"Oh, thank goodness, I'm starving," Martin said happily.

"What culinary delight do we have tonight, Arthur?" Douglas asked.

"Duck!"


End file.
